


Adult-Ed

by msmerlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bar, Cooking Class, Drabble, Drabble Me This, Drinking, F/M, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmerlin/pseuds/msmerlin
Summary: “Names Harry.”“Hermione.”“It’s nice to meet you—officially.” He said with that toothy smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “So, Hermione, where are we going on our first date?”“It’s a date? I thought it was just dinner.”or the one in which Hermione's so dreadful in her cooking class the cute man thinks it's adorable.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 21
Kudos: 225





	Adult-Ed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WildflowerWeasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildflowerWeasley/gifts).



> unbeta'd. it's probably a mess.

“Hey! Aren’t you that girl from Pascales?”

Hermione could have died in that very moment and it would have been entirely Theodore Nott’s fault. She was post-thirty with zero prospects, an aging cat and had absolutely nothing to show for it besides a steady paycheck and a overbearing friend.

Which is why he bought her cooking lessons for her birthday.

Cooking lessons. Like the ‘learn how to boil water you fucking fool’ kind of classes parents buy their millennial children still living at home.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook, but rather she hated it.

Theo seemed to gloss over that fact, much like he tended to gloss over other parts of their friendship, crossing the line between friendly and pompous like it was his fucking day job. (like his over excessive use of her spare key, or like the time he logged into her tindr and swiped right on half of Sacramento).

“Uh… nope.” So lying wasn’t her strong suit. Sue her. She wasn’t a fucking librarian because she could conserve—books didn’t have a habit of talking back, thankfully.

“No… no you are. You set your hair on fire last week.” The attractive bespeckled bar patron stood from stool a few chairs away and plucked his beer from the bar as he moved closer, claiming the empty space beside her. “I would remember your face anywhere.”

Kill her.

Now.

Cyanide wasn’t painful, was it?

Maybe a single shot to the head would do.

“You… uh… saw that?” Her fingers curled tighter around her own bottle, nails digging into the gold and white Stella Atrois label and she looked away as she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

The man laughed, and she could feel the weight of his arm resting on the back of her stool shift her chair. “I’m fairly certain we all did. Glad to see you made it out alive.”

“Barely.” Lifting the bottle to her lips, she took a quick pull before glancing over to him with more of a grimace that a smile. She recognized him the moment he walked in Riptide, how could she not? She’d been staring at the back of his head for two weeks now. Studying the patterns that his moles made across his neck and shoulders, watching him chop chives like a five-star chef instead of some hopeless basket case like herself.

He was good, too good to be in a cooking class as a local rec center sandwiched between Agnis the decrepit and Camel Joe the chain smoker. And frankly, too handsome as far as she was concerned.

“Well, it looks as if the flames didn’t reach your skin, maybe just your pride.” He hummed, green eyes flickering across her face as his smile stretched so wide it nudged his glasses up his nose. “Which is a good thing. I’d hate for a cooking class to be the reason you ruined your pretty face.”

Pretty? As in—no. absolutely not. He was a nice guy! He flirted with Agnis, and listened to Camel Joe’s ramblings. That’s just what nice guys did. It’s what they said to make girls like her feel less hopeless.

“Ha… yeah.” Her eyes widened, as if to punctuate her point as she took another pull from her beer, finishing off the last mouthful before she set it back down, carefully nudging it forward until it sat closure to the bartenders side verses her own. “Well, now that you’ve recognized me I clearly need to go find myself a new watering hole.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Couldn’t have you telling everyone in here about my culinary prowess.” She gestured around them to the various middle-aged patrons who congregated in her local dive bar.

He nodded slowly, surveying the bar with a barely suppressed grin before his eyes found hers once more. “That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?” He picked up his own bottle of ale, tipping it back to finish off its contents before gesturing toward Samantha for another round. “Tell you what… you tell me your name and agreed to let me take you to dinner and I promise to never let you cook unpartnered in the class.”

Her brow crinkled, lips pursing just slightly and she accepted the fresh brew before shifting in her chair so she could better face him. “Wait, you to take me to dinner?”

“I do.”

“…why?”

He shrugged, index finger tapping against the rim of his bottle. “You’re cute. You’ve made me laugh more than once in that dreadful class—minus the fire incident of course, and I honestly think you finishing out the course without help you might be missing a fingertip by the end.”

“Jokes on you, I’ve already cut myself once.” Lifting her hand from the bar, she turned her palm towards him to show the large still-healing gash that bisected her palm. “But… I’ll take you up on your offer. But only because I’m starving.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He mused as he held out his hand, long fingers curling around hers in a firm grip. “Names Harry.”

“Hermione.”

“It’s nice to meet you—officially.” He said with that toothy smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “So, Hermione, where are we going on our first date?”

“It’s a date? I thought it was just dinner.”

“Semantics, really.” He brushed off her question with a quick wave, shifting in his chair so his elbow rested against the bartop. “Regardless, where am I taking you?”

She should say no. Men like Harry were trouble. Charming. Handsome. Clever. But as she watched him tip back his bottle, green eyes still locked on hers, she couldn’t help but forget that nagging little devil on her shoulder. “How about Willie’s? After today’s lesson, I think I need a milkshake… and fries.”

“Sounds… perfect.” Harry nodded, tongue darting across his lips to collect any droplets of beer that remained. "I'm always in the mood for a burger."

**Author's Note:**

> To WildflowerWeasley. You are simply a treasure. I adore you. <3 xx
> 
> Thanks for the prompt darling. This is probably not what you were looking for, but where it ended up. 
> 
> until next time. xx


End file.
